


and it all makes sense to me

by bellawritess



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 4+1 Things, AND THEY SHOULD, Band Fic, Everyone Loves Niall Horan, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Guitars, In a sense, M/M, Multi, Niall Horan-centric, Polyamory, Rating for Language, Trans Niall Horan, as he Deserves, but i think it roughly takes place on OTRA, he is. trust me, it doesn't say anywhere in the fic but, it's practically routine by now but, lots of guitar talk, mikey this is for you, music references, suspend disbelief where you must thank you, that's my guess anyway, the timing of this is ambiguous, yeah i'm guessing at the era of my own fic what do you want from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Four times Niall tries to teach his boys to play guitar, and the one time he plays for them.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Harry Styles, Niall Horan/Liam Payne, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	and it all makes sense to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Who_the_hell_is_Tre_Cool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_the_hell_is_Tre_Cool/gifts).



> omg mikey i am BARELY getting this out on your birthday literally five minutes out but i hope you will forgive me on the basis that it is 6.3k and it was all written in the last fifteen hours. ive had this idea for a little while and i am very glad you gave me the inspiration to actually write it. i think that niall-centric ot5 fluff is what you deserve to have in your life. what we all deserve
> 
> anyway !!!!!!!! happy birthday [mikey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_the_hell_is_Tre_Cool/pseuds/Who_the_hell_is_Tre_Cool) i love you a helluva lot you are a treasure and such a wonderful person i'm so glad to have met you i absolutely love chatting with you and i love your writing so very much and i love YOU so very much. you make me smile!! you make me laugh!! you are clever and sweet and i really admire the way you create the content you wish to see in the world i hope you NEVER stop doing that okay ive gotta get a move on if this is actually going to be posted before midnight GMT so ill wrap it up here but just know that i adore you and i hope you like this fic
> 
> it has been a hot sec since ive written 1d fic and ive only really written one so i hope this one's alright!!! also i apologize in advance for anything that sounds american. that would be because i am american. i tried to make it sound british but there's an almost 100% chance i was at least partially unsuccessful. i know we all know this but i beg you suspend disbelief when you must
> 
> sorry in advance for all the guitar talk this is also as unbeta'ed as it gets so i don't know if that makes it totally illegible but hopefully it doesnt OR that the fluff and general cuteness makes up for it i dont think it gets too technical but obviously i would say that as a guitarist so like fdhlkgjdskgfhlmj just. yeah i don't think it's too bad and i hope you (general you) enjoy
> 
> title from little things by one direction :)
> 
> ETA [here is the post that loosely inspired this fic](https://alloutshirt.tumblr.com/post/611520400211492864/ot5-playing-guitar-piano-version-bonus) :)

1.

Harry’s problem is the bar chord.

That was Niall’s problem, too, when he’d first started learning guitar. For what felt like ages, he would purposely avoid any song with an F — a great deal of songs, unfortunately — because he hated to admit that he couldn’t quite play it. Succeeding for the first time in strumming an F chord without any dead or twanging strings remains among his top accomplishments in life. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to suggest that they try and play something else, but Harry is determined. He has his Determined Harry face on. His eyebrows knit together and to an outsider he would appear mildly upset. It’s very cute, but that’s not the point.

Niall is here to _teach._ Not to get distracted thinking about how cute Harry is.

They’ve gotten through the G, D, and E minor chords. Harry’s got the right hands for guitar, long fingers that can stretch across many frets. (Niall’s not thinking about that, either.) (Yes he very much is.) All that’s left is to tackle B minor and then Harry will be able to play almost all of ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ as is the goal. It’s just barely too complex for a beginner, but Harry is just barely more skilled than a beginner, possibly by virtue of being around a lot of guitarists in his life. Niall wants him to pin down the B minor. He does not want Harry to cry, as Niall himself has done a fair few times in his youth. Bar chords are _hard_ until you learn to play them, and Niall knows this very well.

But Harry won’t back down. He’s not a quitter. Tenacious to a fault, some might say, but Niall thinks that’s better than giving up at the first sign of trouble.

There’s not a lot more he can do than just give encouraging nods when Harry switches from the Em to the Bm. Until Harry huffs. “You play it.”

Niall squints. “How will that —”

“I just want to hear how it’s supposed to sound,” Harry says, shoving the guitar towards Niall. “Play it. Once. I’m starting to give up hope, here.”

Niall accepts his guitar and settles it across his lap. They’re cross-legged on the floor of the hotel room, close together because Niall had been adjusting Harry’s fingers on the frets and then had never moved away. He can’t really think of a reason to move away, not when Harry clearly needs him to brush the hair away from his face when he’s staring intently at the fretboard. Not when Harry looks up at him with that sparkling look in his eyes, like he’s thinking something very exciting and is expecting that Niall is thinking the same.

(Which Niall _might_ be. But that’s part of Harry’s whole thing, is that he’s not going to tell Niall what it is.)

“D’you want me to say the chords like I did last time?” he asks, fingers poised to play a C. Harry’s gaze hovers over Niall’s hand on the frets, then snaps up to meet his eyes.

“No,” he says. “Just play it like it’s supposed to be played. So I can get it back in my head.”

Niall inclines his head. He plucks the strings and then, with no reason to continue stalling, strums the C and starts the song. 

It is, admittedly, satisfying to get through the first verse of the song without hearing “shit” or “fuck” or any other expletive Harry had come up with in his efforts to play a Bm chord. Niall plays it slower than he knows it’s meant to be played. Partly for Harry’s benefit in trying to get a grasp on the chords, and partly for his own benefit.

The longer he plays, the longer Harry is watching him.

Through the first verse and chorus, it’s just Niall’s voice and the guitar. As he finishes the second verse, Harry jumps in, quietly harmonising. Niall smiles and doesn’t falter, even as Harry’s harmonies grow stronger with his smile and his silly grin feels a bit too real on _and when I touch you I feel happy inside_. He’s not watching Niall’s hands anymore; every time Niall looks up from the chords on his phone, it’s straight into Harry’s eyes, sparkling away like they’ve got nothing better to do.

On the last _I wanna hold your hand,_ Niall strums slowly down each string, letting them ring for a moment before he mutes them and gives Harry a wry smile. “Well?”

“Why am I even bothering,” Harry says in faux-despair. “I’m built to sing, Nialler, not to play. That’s why we’ve got you.”

“ _You’re_ the one that wanted to learn,” Niall points out. “And you _are_ learning, come on. You’ve gotten way better. Look, it took me forever to play a bar chord well. Just need to practice.” He presses his lips together. “It’s also possible that I’m not the best teacher.”

“Hey!” Harry pokes Niall with his toes. “Don’t talk about my guitar tutor like that.”

“I’m rubbish,” Niall says, shaking his head. “Dan would be a way better teacher.”

“Shut up,” Harry says loudly. “Dan’s not as nice _or_ as cute _or_ as pretty and his voice isn’t nearly as good as yours, so no. No chance.”

A blush rises to Niall’s cheeks. “Stop it.”

“ _You_ stop it,” Harry insists. “I mean it. I like having you teach me. I wouldn’t want to learn from anyone else.”

“I like teaching you,” Niall confesses. 

“And you have to admit I’m not the best student, either, so we’re well-matched, wouldn’t you agree?”

Niall does, in fact, think they’re well-matched, in more ways than one. “You’re a good student.”

“I am absolute shite, but you can’t blame me,” Harry says conversationally. “You’d be distracted, too, if your guitar teacher was, um, well, was you.”

In the bizarreness of that statement, Niall is pretty sure there’d been a compliment. Or a flirtation. Or something. “Huh?”

“If you fancied your guitar teacher,” Harry says slowly, “you would also be distracted. Is what I was trying to say.”

One of Niall’s internal organs is competing for a gold in gymnastics right now. Possibly multiple of them are competing. “Do you fancy your guitar teacher?”

“Yes, you silly cunt,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

Like it’s _so_ easy. Like it’s no big deal. Like Niall doesn’t sit around staring at Harry basically hoping he’ll stare back.

“Uh,” says Niall, intelligently. There’s an expectant look on Harry’s face. “Your guitar teacher fancies you too. Obviously. As well. If that wasn’t massively obvious.”

“It was,” Harry tells him with a cheeky smile. Of course. “But that’s what I like about you, Ni. Heart on your sleeve and all that.”

The better to get hurt, but also to be loved, in Niall’s experience. He could play it safe, sure, but he’d rather take a shot and know than to always wonder what-if.

He returns Harry’s cheeky smile and passes back his guitar. Butterflies slowly beat their wings around his chest, giving him a fuzzy feeling in his fingertips. “Well, Harold, unfortunately you can’t flirt your way out of this one. B minor chord. Go. You can do it.”

Harry groans dramatically. “I’ve forgotten how to play it,” he says, eyes sparkling again. He holds out his left hand underneath the neck of the guitar. “Help?”

Niall huffs. There’s really nothing to complain about, though — he arranges Harry’s fingers as best he can on the fretboard and when he looks up, Harry’s face is right there. He presses a kiss to the corner of Niall’s mouth before Niall can properly react.

“Stop it,” Niall chides, cheeks burning. “Stop trying to seduce your way out of learning.”

“Niall,” Harry whines, drawing out the vowels.

“If you play the B minor chord correctly you can kiss me for real.” Niall points at the guitar, then at Harry’s pouting face. “Play. Now.”

(Apparently all Harry needs is an incentive. It only takes him five more tries to strum a relatively clean B minor chord.

They never quite make it through the rest of the song.)

  
  


2.

‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ has been stuck in Niall’s head since it played on the radio on the way to the venue.

Niall would like to have a word with whoever is responsible for the songs that get stuck in people’s heads. They’ve just played an entire concert comprised of songs that are _not_ ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love,’ but of course that’s the one song that’s echoing in Niall’s brain as he and Zayn slink back to their hotel room post-show. He’s heard the theory that listening to the song all the way through will get it unstuck, but that’s rarely worked before.

Although. Actually.

Niall glances at the corner of the room, where his acoustic is sitting in its case. Sometimes playing the song gets it out of his mind. He’s never played this one so he’ll have to do it the easy way, with chords instead of fingerpicking, but maybe one rough play-through will be sufficient. 

First a shower, though. He’s sweaty from the show and he’s called bagsies on first shower, so in deference to Zayn he makes an effort to be quick. It’s not until he’s out of the shower, stepping out of the bathroom to see Zayn giving him a funny look, that he realises he’s been singing aloud.

“Sorry,” he says, grimacing. “Stuck in my head.”

Zayn nods wordlessly. He blinks. Then he steps past Niall into the bathroom to take a shower of his own.

Niall dries off and pulls on warm pyjamas, then pads over to his guitar to free it from its case. It’s an acoustic, which means it doesn’t plug in, so Niall can’t play it onstage, but he’s too attached emotionally to travel without it and the guitars he _does_ play onstage get packed up with all the other show stuff anyway, so this works out fine. He needs a guitar lying around in case inspiration strikes. Or in case he needs to play an Elvis Presley song to get it out of his head.

As predicted, the tab is easy. Even the fingerpicking looks easy enough. Niall hesitates. He could _probably_ work it out and it wouldn’t take that long…maybe just five minutes to _try_ …

Five minutes becomes fifteen. Zayn comes out of the shower and Niall is still staring at the fingerpicking tab.

“It’s past midnight,” Zayn tells him, an obviously tired slant to his voice as he shuffles past Niall to get dressed. Niall doesn’t look up.

“I know,” he says. He shakes his head abruptly and clicks out of the fingerpicking tab, back to the chords by themselves. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“Naturally,” Zayn mumbles.

“Do you mind if I play it once?” Niall says uncertainly. “‘S just been stuck in my head since I heard it before the show. It’s driving me mad.”

“Nah, go for it, please,” Zayn says, gesturing. “That’s one of me favourite songs, you know.”

Niall blinks. “I forgot.”

In a soft crew neck shirt and joggers, Zayn looks extremely cosy. He all but collapses to his knees before Niall. “I’d love to learn to play it,” he says wistfully. “Wish I could play like you.”

“You can,” Niall says, and before he can think he’s turning his guitar around and offering it to Zayn. “I’ll teach you the first chords, they’re easy.”

“Easy for you,” Zayn says. His lips twist into something almost like a smile, and he takes the guitar anyway. 

“Hang on, this tab’s too hard for—” Niall clicks open a new tab and unclips the capo from the end of his guitar to clip it over the second fret. “There. Oh, it’s got an F. Well. You can just play an F major 7. It sounds roughly the same but it’s much easier.”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re saying,” Zayn tells him, “but you sound very smart saying it.”

Niall chuckles. He pats Zayn’s cheek. “Right on, why d’you think I learned to play in the first place?”

“That was pretty much my guess,” says Zayn.

Niall grins. “We’re starting with C. It’s an easy one.”

“Yeah, you keep calling them _easy_ , I’m not sure I believe it,” Zayn grumbles. Still, he lets Niall arrange his fingers in the right position. His strum is clumsy but he gets the gist of it. Niall hums under his breath as he painstakingly guides Zayn through E minor, A minor, F major 7, another C (Zayn has forgotten how to play it), and G. His hands are cold to the touch and by the time they reach the end of the first line he’s complaining about the strings hurting his fingers. Niall smiles as he strums a really awful G chord.

“Fantastic,” he says warmly. “Sounds exactly like Elvis dreamed it would.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Zayn says, snorting a laugh. “No, babe, you should play it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You’re not going to teach me to play guitar at nearly one in the morning,” Zayn says, dry. Unfortunately, this is a fair point. “Go on. You play. I’d rather you play anyway. It’s nice. You can sing me to sleep.”

“I could,” Niall says. He takes his guitar off of Zayn’s lap and quirks a smile at the confusion on Zayn’s face. “I mean, I could sing you to sleep.”

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.” Niall shrugs. “But it’s whatever you want.”

“Would you? Really?” Zayn looks uncertain. “If you…I’d like that.”

He almost seems to be blushing. Niall smiles and says, “Of course I would.”

In silent agreement, they help each other to their feet. Niall carries his guitar with him and settles cross-legged at the foot of Zayn’s bed as Zayn crawls under the covers. “Lucky bloke, I am,” Zayn murmurs, eyes closed, head against the pillow. “Not everyone gets to be serenaded to sleep by Niall Horan.” He hums quietly. “Love you.”

A pink flush rises to Niall’s cheeks, and he’s glad that Zayn doesn’t see it. “Not everyone gets to serenade Zayn Malik to sleep, either,” Niall says softly. “Love you too.” He feels around until his hand lands over what he’s pretty sure is Zayn’s leg and he pats it twice. A half-smile emerges on Zayn’s face.

And maybe Niall is a little too serious when he sings _I can’t help falling in love with you,_ but by that time Zayn is soundly asleep, gentle snores replacing strums to soundtrack the rest of the night.

3.

Liam is always watching.

Niall has gotten used to this. Liam just likes to try and absorb everything he can via osmosis. They don’t have a ton of time to pick up new skills, so Niall admires that Liam is making an effort anyway with his relentless staring. At first it had been a bit disconcerting, but by now Niall is accustomed to fooling around on his guitar only to spot Liam in the corner of the green room, watching.

This, however, marks the first time Liam’s ever asked Niall about it.

“Is it hard to play?” he says, wandering over. Niall’s been playing through his part of ‘Little Things’ mindlessly. It’s the kind of thing he can do without thinking right up until the moment he needs to, and then suddenly it’s like he’s never played a guitar in his life. In an effort to get ahead of the nerves, Niall has practised the part over and over again. He doesn’t fuck up that often, but it’s just often enough to make him feel like he ought to do better. 

“Depends when you ask me,” he jokes, still playing but quieter now. “No. It’s not hard. Not really.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like it,” Liam says thoughtfully, which Niall is against on principle because of course it doesn’t _look_ hard, he’s worked years to master this skill, when Liam adds, “I mean, I’m sure it would be hard if you weren’t really good. You make it look easy. Is what I meant.”

That’s more like it.

Niall finishes playing the bridge and his hands still over the strings. “Thanks. I try.”

“Yeah, you smash it,” Liam says, giving Niall a blinding smile without any warning, crinkling eyes and all. Niall smiles back even though he knows it’s nowhere near as bright. It’s extremely difficult to smile as brightly as Liam does. “Right, what’s the harder half to play, do you reckon? Left hand or right?”

Niall blinks. “Uh? I dunno? It’s harder on the frets, I think. But, like. By itself neither part is that hard. It’s the putting it together that’s the trick.”

Liam circles around and rests his elbow on Niall’s shoulder, reaching over the guitar with his right hand so it hovers just above the sound hole. “Which ones do I play?”

Niall snorts. “Uh, yeah, it’s the low E, D, then G and B together, and you do that twice.”

“No problem,” Liam says, hip-checking Niall. “Arsehole.”

“ _I’m_ the arsehole for telling you the right strings to play?” 

“I obviously don’t know which ones those are!” Liam protests. A smile dances across his face. Niall smacks a kiss to his cheek for the hell of it and glances down at the strings.

“These ones,” he says, slowly plucking the right strings in the right order. It never sounds quite right without Dan playing the other guitar part, but it’s familiar enough that Liam’s eyes light up. He mimics Niall’s plucking, albeit somewhat messily, and sure enough, the first bar of ‘Little Things’ rings out. 

Liam seems dead chuffed. “Wow, that is incredibly satisfying.”

“It is,” Niall agrees. There’s nothing quite like playing a song the way it’s meant to sound. That’s always been the biggest draw, for Niall. It’s why he loves being able to play an instrument. 

“Okay, next chord.”

“Uh,” Niall says. “Well, you’ll want to pluck this one — this is the A string — twice, and the first time it’s open and the second time it’s on the second fret. Like this.” He demonstrates. Liam’s grin grows wider.

“I know this is obvious, but it sounds like the song,” he says, laughing a bit. “Okay. What string was that again?”

His hand grazes Niall’s as Niall shows him the string to play, and Niall feels familiar butterflies awaken in his rib cage. They might as well stop bothering to rest, Niall thinks; at this point they’re around more often than not. 

“This bit is a little more complicated,” he says. “The first part is the same pattern as before, only this time it’s these strings — A, D, G and B together. The second part, you pluck D, then G, then G and B together.”

“You say this like the names of the strings mean anything to me,” Liam teases, ruffling Niall’s hair with his unoccupied hand. Niall ducks his head, smiling abashedly. “No, I’m joking. Keep saying them. Maybe I’ll actually learn them.”

“I don’t mind teaching you,” Niall says. He plucks the strings again and Liam follows the motion. It’s rough, but not wrong. “Another time. When we aren’t ten minutes from a show.”

“Brilliant,” Liam says. “I’d love you to. I’d really like to learn to play this but I can’t imagine this is what you’d teach an amateur, is it?”

Niall inclines his head. “Not really.” He purses his lips. “Though there’s no rule against it. It’s not like I couldn’t. It’d just, you know, be bloody confusing for you unless you learned the basics first.”

“Yeah.” Liam shrugs. “You’d have to teach me the basics.”

“I’d love to teach you the basics,” Niall says enthusiastically. “Always happy to teach.”

“Aren’t you teaching Harry?”

Niall chuckles. ‘Teaching’ is a generous term for what really happens lately in his and Harry’s impromptu guitar sessions, which is that Niall bribes Harry with physical affection and Harry complains for five minutes before setting the guitar aside and more or less tackling Niall in a kiss. Their productivity has gone down the drain, but Niall thinks it’s worth it. Maybe. Somewhat.

“I can teach multiple people,” he says. Because if it worked with Harry, maybe it would work with Liam. Now _that’s_ a pattern Niall could get behind. Anyway, Niall has a feeling Liam will be a much more attentive student than Harry.

Well. Attentive to the lesson.

“I’m in,” Liam says, flashing a grin towards Niall, still blinding, still threatening to make Niall too weak in the knees to stay standing. Does he smile like that at everyone? Is Niall the only victim or is he just the weakest? Is everyone else completely immune to Liam Payne? There’s no way.

“You’re in?”

“For you to teach me the basics,” Liam repeats back. Niall blinks. Yes. Right. Of guitar. The conversation. “Another time.”

“Another time,” Niall agrees. He plays through the first verse of ‘Little Things’ with practised ease, grinning over at Liam as he sings the verse usually sung by Zayn. Liam jumps unbidden onto the harmony line, as so often he does. His eyes don’t leave Niall’s until they finish the chorus, and by that time they’re both smiling like idiots.

(When they go onstage, Liam does exactly the same thing, standing at Niall’s left instead of his right and crooning a soaring harmony over the bridge Niall sings. Anywhere else, it would make Niall miss a beat, but somehow he plays every string and hits every note he’s supposed to without taking his eyes off Liam.)

  
  


4.

Guitar Center is nice, but there’s a certain magic in local music shops that Niall has never found in the big chain stores. Although that could also be a result of Louis sat at the grand piano, intently watching his own hands as they draw out the melody of ‘How To Save A Life.’ 

Niall slides onto the piano bench without touching Louis, but the moment he appears Louis stops playing and the song aborts halfway through. 

“Hey, no, don’t stop,” Niall says encouragingly. “I came over to listen.”

“No, no, I don’t know it past that anyway,” Louis says. “Can’t even sing it.”

“I’ll sing it, go on,” Niall insists. He briefly tilts his head onto Louis’s shoulder and Louis pats his knee. “I like to hear you play. Please.”

Louis huffs. “Things I do for you, lad,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t seem too cross as he settles his fingers over the keys again. Then, pausing, he illuminates with an idea. “Oi, grab a guitar, we’ll have a duet.”

“It’s not a guitar song,” says Niall, but Louis waves him off. 

“Like you’ve not been eyeing up these guitars since we got here,” he says, pointing over to where a rack of very sleek acoustics are hung up. Niall chews his lip. “ _Go_ , we’re not getting any younger.”

And. Well. If Louis is asking. 

Niall leaps to his feet and crosses to the guitars, pulling off the one he really _has_ been stealing glances at. He drags a stool over to sit beside the piano and settles the guitar comfortably over his lap, strumming easy chords to get a feel for the strings. It’s unfamiliar in his hands the way any new guitar is bound to be, and the sound is a bit hollower, but it’s nice. A good guitar. If Niall was in need of a new guitar, he would keep this one in mind. He’ll probably still keep it in mind even though he very much does not need a new guitar.

“What’re the chords?” he asks, softly alternating between E and A. Louis plays the first two measures and shrugs.

“Dunno,” he says. He’s got pianist hands, slender fingers that would easily cover an octave. They would be good for guitar, too, Niall thinks. They would be good to kiss. 

Louis would let him. Louis would probably smile or take Niall’s hand to kiss in return. They understand each other like that. Everything is comfortable with Louis. The butterflies don’t vanish around him, but they’re far less agitated. There’s a certain thrill in the novelty of whatever Niall and Harry are doing, and in the giddiness of his relationship with Zayn and Liam, but Louis is steady and reliable. Niall never has to pretend like he’s not smitten with Louis.

Accordingly, he gives Louis a weary smile. “How the fuck do you want me to play along with you if you don’t know the chords?”

“It’s all muscle memory by now,” Louis says, playing the piano part over and over. He smacks a hand down on the keys and grinds out a discordant noise. “Sorry,” he adds, with a cheeky grin to Niall. “Can you figure it out? This is a…G? I think? Isn’t it?”

Niall plays a G. Either the guitar is out of tune or the piano is, because they don’t sound precisely the same, but Niall is pretty sure it’s the same chord. “Alright,” he says. “Yeah. That sounds right.” And G usually goes with D, then E minor, both of which sound right when Niall plays them. “Okay. Yeah. I’ve got it.”

“That’s my boy,” Louis says proudly, reaching over to tug at Niall’s hair. “Little music prodigy.”

“Shut up,” Niall says. “It’s just chords.”

“Obviously more’n I could do,” Louis points out. He turns, lifts his knees to his chest, and rests his chin atop them, watching Niall. “Go on.”

“I thought it was a duet.” 

“Nah, nah, I’m no good,” Louis says, ignoring when Niall rolls his eyes. “Come on, you’ve got all the chords, it’s easy!”

“If it’s easy, you could play it too,” Niall says. He strums through the progression. “It’s literally three chords. I can teach them to you.”

“Yeah, right, fantastic idea,” Louis deadpans. “‘Cos I’m clearly such a music master, me.”

“It’s just G, D, E minor,” Niall says. “Then back to D. Easy chords, swear down.”

“Ni, I’m hopeless on guitar,” Louis says. This time Niall ignores him, lifting the guitar off his lap and holding it out to Louis. “You _know_ I’m shite, I’ve never been good at this.”

“Not asking you to be good,” Niall says lightly. “Just asking you to try.”

They have a brief staring contest. Niall almost forgets his original goal in the shining ocean of Louis’s eyes. The light coming through the front of the store hits him just right. Niall really _is_ smitten. It would be pathetic if he weren’t pretty sure Louis was just as smitten with Niall. 

(Right, it’s still a bit pathetic. But Niall doesn’t mind being pathetic as long as he and Louis can be pathetic together.)

“Don’t understand how we started with you playing for me and now somehow I’m the one playing for you,” Louis sighs, taking the guitar. Niall cheers and slides onto the bench beside him.

“G is gonna be the hardest chord, and it’s well easy,” Niall promises. Louis groans. This isn’t the first time Niall has tried to teach Louis to play, and he appreciates that Louis hasn’t entirely given up, but G must give him war flashbacks or something. “It is, honestly. You forget to press down the strings when you strum, it’s just about coordination. If you can play this on piano, you can absolutely do it on guitar. Piano’s much harder.”

“Yeah, for _you,_ ” Louis says. “‘Cos you don’t play it.”

Niall shakes his head, sidestepping the fact that Louis has a point. “First finger here. Second finger here.”

Louis allows Niall to set his fingers up in a G chord and then kiss his cheek before he strums down the strings. His strum is stiff but Niall has no idea how to fix that; strumming is something he can’t remember not knowing, and he’s got no clue how to teach it other than just _strum_. But apart from an excessively loud G string, the chord comes out clear. 

Louis strums it another couple of times for good measure. “Alright, not bad,” he grudgingly allows. “And that was the hard one, yeah?”

“That’s the hard one,” Niall says, nodding. “Now D, it’s a breeze in comparison.”

Louis laughs. “You’re full of shit, you know.”

“What? I’m serious!”

“Yeah, I know you’re serious. But you’re full of shit.” Louis leans into Niall’s side, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get proper good at piano just so I can teach you.”

“I’d love you to,” Niall says honestly. “What makes you think I don’t want that?”

Another laugh. “Fine,” says Louis. “Show me the D chord.”

“Oh, I’ll show you the D chord,” Niall says suggestively, nudging Louis, who only snorts, probably more at Niall making the joke than at the joke itself. He works patiently with Niall through D and E minor and even sort of remembers how to play the D chord again when it comes back. After that, though, he strums a loud, dissonant chord and pushes the guitar towards Niall.

“I’m done,” he declares. “Lesson over for today.”

“You made good progress,” Niall says, unable to resist. Just because Louis hasn’t officially asked Niall to teach him to play doesn’t mean Niall can’t give him positive reinforcement where he’s earned it.

“Ah, shut up,” Louis replies. A smile creeps over his face. “It’ll all be gone by the next time. As I’m sure there will be. You are determined, aren’t you?”

“If you’d rather be the one teaching me piano, it’s all the same to me,” Niall says loftily. “Just like the excuse to be this close.” He strums the chords of ‘How To Save A Life.’ “ _Step one, you say we need to talk. He walks, you say —_ go on, sing for us, Tommo.”

“You don’t need an excuse to be this close to me, you silly cunt,” Louis chuckles, wrapping an arm around Niall’s waist and sliding closer to him on the bench. “Okay. Play it again. From the top.”

The key is lower than the song is supposed to be, so it’s a good thing Louis’s got the low range Niall can't quite achieve. Together, fumbling a bit when Niall realises he needs to start the chorus with a C, they make it through the whole song, and Niall is glad all he has to do is play so he can smile like a kid in love from the first note to the last.

  
  


5.

They’ve been on the tour bus for three hours, and Niall is bored out of his mind.

Zayn and Louis are cuddled up in a bunk nap, Harry’s playing some video game on his phone, and Liam is somehow reading. Niall would love to steal Liam’s brain so he could read without getting carsick, but unfortunately science hasn’t advanced quite that far yet. It had been fine when the connection in the bus was decent and Niall could mindlessly scroll Twitter, but now they’ve hit a spot of patchy service and by the scenery out the window, they won’t be leaving it for a while.

Niall’s _bored._

He’d tried taking a nap but had had no success. His own fault for getting a responsible amount of sleep the previous night. Now he’s awake and if he doesn’t figure out a way to occupy himself soon he’s going to go insane.

He ambles into the front of the bus and flops down on the couch beside Liam. “I’m bored,” he informs Liam for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“I know you are,” Liam says, also for the fifth time. “I’ve got no answers for you, mate.”

“I know you haven’t,” Niall gripes. He’s getting fierce deja vu. That’s enough of that. “Ugh, I need better bandmates.”

“I agree,” says Liam, patting Niall’s head. Niall pushes himself back up to his feet and squints at Liam, who’s still reading his book like Niall hasn’t made himself a massive inconvenience.

“If you loved me, you would hang out with me.”

“If _you_ loved _me_ you would leave me alone to read.”

Shit. That’s a fair point.

“Fine,” Niall huffs. “I _do_ love you, as a matter of fact.”

Liam lifts his gaze and flashes a smile at Niall. “Aw, Nialler. Love you too.”

Niall doesn’t even have it in himself to give a sarcastic response. He just smiles a bit and does a one-eighty to walk towards the back lounge.

And then screeches to a halt and peers into the Trash Bunk. (Occupied by what isn’t technically trash but is well on its way.) “What the fuck?”

“What’s up?” Harry pokes his head out of his bunk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, my guitar’s here,” Niall says, frowning. “I thought I put it underneath.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I think Zayn took it out and brought it on? He probably meant to tell you and then fell asleep instead. In typical Zayn fashion.”

Niall turns to look at the curtain separating Zayn (and Louis) from the rest of the world. “Why?”

Harry shrugs. “Probably thought you would be bored.”

The chord of emotion that swells in Niall’s chest is far more complex than anything he knows how to play. 

“Well,” he says, grasping at the right words. “He was right.”

Harry smiles warmly. “‘S almost like we know you well. Better than you know yourself, some might say.”

Niall rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he pulls his guitar out of the bunk and he blows a kiss to Harry before disappearing into the back lounge.

On hour five, like clockwork, all four of Niall’s bandmates file into the back lounge. Niall looks up from the fretboard to see them all settling in. Harry and Zayn slide onto the couch, Zayn hiding a yawn in Harry’s hoodie. Louis sits himself on the floor across from Niall and Liam follows suit, so that when their legs stretch out their feet almost brush Niall’s knee.

“Uh, hi?” Niall says, moving to set aside his guitar.

“No, we came to listen to you play,” Liam says, reaching out as if to stall him. “Don’t stop on our account.”

“Sounded nice from out there,” Louis contributes. There’s a delicate pink flush in his face and his hair is unruly. He and Zayn have probably only just woken up. Abruptly, Niall wonders if _he’s_ the reason they’re awake. As if reading his mind, Louis continues, “You didn’t wake us, don’t worry. Could barely hear it, it was just beautiful as always.”

“It wasn’t— I wasn’t playing anything,” Niall says, ducking his head. “It was just a lot of nothing.”

“Sounded really lovely for a lot of nothing,” Harry says. His arm is round Zayn, who’s half-melted onto him. Louis is leaning back against Harry’s calves and he’s playing a sort of unconscious game of footsie with Liam. They’re adorable. All of Niall’s boys are adorable. That same resounding, drawn-out chord from before rings through his whole body. 

“Actually, there is something I’ve been practising,” he says nervously. “If you’re already here. And you fancy a listen.”

“What did we just say,” Louis says, shaking his head like _this kid._ “We’re listening, love.”

Niall has an inkling that Louis means more than just in music. He’s got everyone’s attention right now. Stadiums brimming with the screams of manic fans will never come close to the feeling of all of his boys’ eyes on him, like resolving a chord. It’s tense for just a moment, and then the warmth of the consonance floods him and he smiles.

They’re listening.

Niall adjusts his guitar on his lap and, meeting Liam’s eyes, then Louis’s, then Zayn’s, and finally Harry’s, he plays the beginning of ‘Blackbird’ and lets their delight wash over him as he begins. _Blackbird singing in the dead of night…_

There are still a couple of rough spots, mostly because it’s been a day or two since Niall has played it. A few times he has to glance down at his fingers to see what they’re doing, but when he looks back up it’s inevitably to four shining faces, four matching smiles, each one for him.

As he sings the last line and plucks the final strings, he finds himself mirroring their smiles with one of his own. He strums a soft G chord.

“So? Does it sound okay?”

“Oh, Niall,” Louis sighs, prodding Niall’s leg with his toes. “You’re just the easiest person to love, you know that?”

“Seconded,” Liam pipes up, even as his hand comes to rest on Louis’s thigh.

“Thirded,” Harry chimes in. “Zayn’s fourthed it, as well.”

“I’ll fourth your mum,” Zayn says lightly. “Yeah, fourthed. Love you, Ni.”

“Lads,” Niall says, blushing. He should really learn to blush a bit less. It’s embarrassing how easy he is. “I love you guys.”

“He loves us!” Harry cheers. “It’s a miracle!”

“If it’s a revelation to you lot that I love you, you really have not been paying attention,” Niall says, grinning. He lifts up his guitar and slides it onto the couch behind him. “How much longer ‘til we get to, uh, wherever we’re going?”

“An hour or so,” Liam says. Niall smiles brightly. 

“Just enough time for a cuddle,” he decides, and drapes himself across Liam and Louis’s laps amidst half-hearted protests. “Hey, do you love me or not?”

“Would love you if you were a couple kilos lighter.” Louis pinches his cheek. “Just kidding. I love you exactly as you are.”

“I want to cuddle,” Harry says, frowning. Before anyone can say anything further he’s off the couch and sprawling over the mess of limbs on the floor with Zayn close behind. There are laughs and complaints and _shove over_ s and _that’s me arse, thank you_ s but eventually the five of them are comfortably tangled together, and Niall thinks that this is how it should always be. Just him and his guitar and his boys in a back lounge as they trundle down a motorway in the middle of nowhere.

Niall could get used to this. It’s possible he already has.

**Author's Note:**

> you know i actually sort of taught myself to play little things AND blackbird for this fic??? i was sitting at my computer at like 7am playing little things as quietly as possible like the terrible roommate that i am but on the bright side writing this did give me a new appreciation for little things. lyrically not the most ingenious but instrumentally???? MMMMMMMMMMMMM gotta love it
> 
> ANYWAY!!! happy birthday mikey i love you very very much <3 to everyone else! i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) where i mostly write 5sos and atl fic but i am Not opposed to writing more 1d i have no idea if that's something anyone wants but point being come say hello !!! leave a comment if you liked it i am always very grateful for those <3 okay byeeee


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